


Cultures

by Sonamae



Series: Get Me The Ottoman [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, Impact Play, M/M, Power Exchange, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 10:21:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonamae/pseuds/Sonamae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never bring work home, and never bring home to work.  Disobey and you go against the contract.  Go against the contact and you get punished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cultures

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to Shin for inspiring this idea and sitting up with me while we swooned over it. Another huge thank you to my mom, Kim, for giving me feedback and making sure everything was right.

 “My latest cultures are gone,” Newton said in shock as he held up his keyboard.  His entire body was on high alert, hands trembling and bile rising in his throat as he started searching his desk, “Hermann what do I _do_?  They're _gone_!” He yelled across the lab and felt his throat begin to tighten.  The aggravated sigh and halt of chalk on the board was the beginning of Hermann's response, then the frustrated slam of chalk on the metal lip.  
  
 “They are most certainly not _gone_.” Hermann called, the clatter of him fumbling for his cane echoing across the lab.  Newton ignored the calming tones of his coworker and began throwing files behind him.  He didn't understand how two dishes full of the most exciting reaction of Kaiju DNA yet had _disappeared_ from under his keyboard.  Newton had put them there because no one messed with his desk for fear of Kaiju contamination.  His disorganized chaos was organized, every sheet of paper in the folders he was throwing was going to have to be trashed and then reworked into his mind bank.  Renumbered.  
  
 Hermann grabbed his wrist and yanked, eyeing him and the coffee mug he was ready to throw toward the door. “Hermann, they're-” He was cut off as Hermann pried the ceramic out of his fingers and set the mug down.  
  
 “They are in the culture cabinet, second level up.  I moved them when Chuck came in looking for files on something schematic wise.  I wasn't paying attention to his dribble, but I knew you'd have an adverse reaction to something as catastrophic as a knick in the glass of your pet project.” He sneered as Newton's face lit up in joy. “Oh no, don't you dare-”  
  
 Newton flung his arms around Hermann in a tight hug, taking the well deserved smack to the back of his thigh that sent them toppling into the desk. “Hey, Hermann that hurt, but thank you!” Newton grunted when he was smacked again and gave another squeeze before he let go. “I didn't want to have to scrap that project, I just know that I'm about to make a breakthrough!” Newton abandoned his friend and listened to the heavy sigh behind him.  
  
 “Please don't tell me about your asinine project, Newton.  You talk about it enough in your sleep.  In fact, I'm not even supposed to be over on this side of the lab.  Clean your workspace up or I will make you wish you'd never been bloody born.” Hermann begged as Newton unlocked the culture cabinet and located his petri dishes.  With practiced ease, he picked them off the shelf and turned, already tuning Hermann out as he walked back to his desk. “And stop ignoring me when I tell you to clean up.”  
  
 Newton hummed positively in response, prodding at his microscope settings as he slid his cultures onto the desk.  He reached out as he lifted his glasses and peered through the microscope, fumbling about for a box of gloves.  Hermann groaned and nudged the box closer with his thumb, then turned to leave.  The steady thump was comforting as Newton pulled on the gloves and then read over each culture.  
  
 Leatherback on the left.  Knifehead on the right.  He could do this, everything would be fine and he'd be one step closer to a just in case scenario.  
  
 “I'm going to get you more coffee, maybe that will hone your focus so you can stop blubbering about useless dribble.” Hermann muttered near the door.  Newton looked up and reached for his mug, but it was already gone.  Clever bastard, always looking out for him.  
  
 Newton shook his head and picked up Leatherback's culture, sliding it into place with a satisfied sigh.  Now to check on the progress of slowly deconstructed DNA, reintroduced it to the human DNA pattern, and hoping it could be constructed into something a bit more sizeable.  If he got this right, he could grow two human sized infant Kaiju and teach them how to speak English and fight the urges to destroy humanity!  
  
 “Hermann, this time we're going to be daddies.” He muttered before peering into the microscope.  
  
\--  
  
 Newton was sitting at one of his other work desks when Hermann got back, scalpel in hand as he glared and cut open some strange inner organ.  
  
 “I got you coffee,” Hermann called from the door as he announced his presence.  Newton just grunted and sparred a glance up at him before stabbing at the base off the hard lump he'd found in the tubing. “Oh.” Hermann sighed and his face scrunched in annoyance. “Didn't I tell you it wouldn't go well?” He asked as he walked toward the divider of the lab.  
  
 Newton flicked the scalpel across the tubing and created a small hole, then forced a finger inside to widen it. “They were contaminated and deteriorating, and thus unusable.” He grunted as he fought not to just rip the entire test material into thousands of pieces.  Hermann sighed in annoyance, then the tap of his cane behind Newton made him realize he was crossing the divider instead of waiting out his frustration.  
  
 “You can always get more, it's not like you're in short supply, Mr. Geiszler.” Hermann said in a mocking tone. “It's not like you're using any real science over here either.” He set the coffee mug down and turned, glowering at Newton as he stomped toward his side of the lab.  
  
 “What I'm doing is _too_ science!” Newton tossed his scalpel down in his desk and began pushing the lump closer toward the hole he'd created in the tubing. “Just because I don't crunch numbers like you do to get your rocks off-”  
  
 “Newton!”  
  
 “Doesn't mean that what I do isn't science!  I don't shut myself off to avoid people like you do, I don't cage myself in numbers to drive them away!” Newton plucked the round ball of glowing congealed liquid out of the hole and hurriedly put it into a glass jar.  He let the samples of Kaiju gut fall back into their tank and then yanked off his gloves, fuming with anger. “Just because I examine things on a level of perception that is beyond yours doesn't mean that I'm not smart.  I _do_ something all day, I get my hands dirty, you stand there at your chalkboard and _write theories_!” He slapped the gloves onto the desk and turned sharply in his chair, his glare halted by the look on Hermann's face.  
  
 One hand was gripping the cane head with white knuckles, the other crossed over his chest as his fingers tapped out a pattern of irritation.  _Hermann's_ irritation.  Newton's spiel had been taken one step further than it should have and his brain flew backwards to the warning note that Hermann had held in his name earlier.  He'd been so furious that he'd overlooked it, ignored the tone of voice he never should.  
  
 “Newton Geiszler,” Hermann's voice was full of command, his gaze set and his intention obvious, “what did you do wrong?” Hermann was using a voice that was strictly meant for outside of work.  They'd agreed, it was in the contract they'd written up together when they'd started this awkward and landmine filled relationship.  
  
 Never bring work home, and never bring home to work.  
  
 “Well?” Hermann asked as if he was snapping a cord behind Newton's ears.  
  
 “Raised my voice in our argument, Sir.  I lost my temper and couldn't reign myself in fast enough.” Newton said hurriedly, never taking his eyes off of Hermann.  His mind stuttered as he reverted to something he only was in the privacy of their bedroom, their small bunker turned apartment.  The scientist in him had fled at the look Hermann had giving him.  All that mattered was the tone of voice Hermann was using and the way it made him feel.  He was the possession and Hermann, the one who held his leash, he had disobeyed one of the few rules that his master had set forth.  
  
 Hermann was a good guy, a great Master believe that or not, and Newton was generally a very good pet.  
  
  _Generally_.  
  
 “Don't do that again, mutt,” Newton flinched at the word but kept his gaze on Hermann, “when we get back to the apartment you are going to get the ottoman out and set it up in the living room.” Newton nodded and watched as Hermann turned sharply, making his way back to his side of the lab. “And drink your coffee before it goes cold, I don't want to listen to you whining about cold drinks while I work.” The last bit was in his normal voice, eye contact broken and issue pushed aside for later.  
  
 Newton swallowed and felt his entire body shiver, the heat of their previous dealings leaving him unfocused as he picked up his coffee mug and sipped from it.  How was he meant to get any work done when Hermann had thrown that at him?  He sat at the desk and listened to Hermann begin to write on the chalkboard, the sound methodical.  
  
 Would he really be punished if Hermann had broken his own rule of never bringing their home life to work?  He should bring it up, but that would further break the rule and lead him to nowhere good, wouldn't it?  He sighed and tugged at his hair with his free hand, then looked at the clock.  They still had several hours until either of them would be exhausted enough to want to go crawl into bed.  
  
 Newton _had_ fucked up though, he wasn't stupid enough to start one sided arguments with Hermann if he knew the man wasn't going to fight back.  Normally he was quick to catch on, but this time...  
  
 He huffed and grabbed his box of gloves again, he'd think about this later.  He had work to occupy him until then.  
  
\--  
  
 It was one in the morning when Newton couldn't focus any longer, and he packed himself up in the messy way he was used to and headed toward the divider of the lab.  The yellow lines separating the room seemed like a force daring him to cross, but he was in enough trouble already and instead waited it out.  
  
 “Hermann,” He called into the stacks of papers and chalkboards, “I'm ready to go.  Do you want me to wait for you or?” He trailed off as the scratching of chalk on porcelain halted.  
  
 “No, I'm ready as well, just give me a moment and wait for me by the door.” On any other night, neither of them would have waited for the other.  They would have shouted that they were leaving and then just _left_.  Tonight though, Hermann had informed Newton that he was going to be punished, and that meant leaving without him would only make it worse.  
  
 In a matter of minutes Hermann was beside him, the two walking in tandem as they made their way through the halls of the Shatterdome to their small apartment.  Newton felt the tension of awaiting his punishment build in every muscle as he opened the door and let Hermann enter first.  He lingered in the hallway, setting his jackets on hooks as he let Newton pass him.  
  
 He stopped at the end of the hall to yank his shoes and shirt off as he remembered one of the rules Hermann had set forth.  
  
  _'Don't trail dirt or muck into the apartment, take a shower when you get back, I don't want Kaiju stink on our sheets.'_  
  
 He hurried to tug at his belt and Hermann coughed, making Newton turn and pause.  
  
 “What are you doing?” Hermann asked.  Newton kept eye contact, but he still felt himself lower his head.  
  
 “I was going to get a quick shower so I don't smell like Kaiju, then I was going to get the ottoman for you, Sir.” Newton said, hands dropping from his belt to rest at his sides.  Hermann eyed him, then shook his head no.  
  
 “Not yet, undress and set up the ottoman, then sit in front of it.  I'm going to make myself a cup of tea.” Hermann dismissed him with a wave of his hand and Newton bit his lip.  He hurriedly yanked off his belt and pants, his boxers falling to the pile on the floor before he scooped them up.  As he walked he took off each sock awkwardly, trying not to fall over before he made it to the bedroom.  
  
  _'Don't leave your clothes on the floor.'_  
  
 He dumped his clothes in the hamper Hermann had gotten him and made a mental note to wash them later, then walked to the closet.  Newton opened the door and felt his palms begin to sweat as he looked down and the leather seat with it's hidden welded metal frame.  He picked up the ottoman, turning out of the bedroom so he could set it onto the empty spot on the living room floor.  Hermann was humming something at the kitchen counter, filling his teapot and setting it on the stove with the teabag so it had time to boil.  
  
 Newton sat on the floor in front of the ottoman, taking off his watch and setting it aside on the coffee table.  He was nude save his glasses now, the itchy rug uncomfortable on his bare skin as he waited.  With effort he kept himself at a slight angle, trying not to brush his cock against anything since the memory of rug burn was still fresh in his mind.  He waited while Hermann set out two cups and his sugar bowl, then slowly walked over to the ottoman.  As Hermann settled down and leaned forward, elbows on his knees with his fingers looped together, Newton sat up straighter.  His legs tucked beneath him and his hands balled into fists on either side of his thighs.  He held his head high, inhaling as Hermann studied him critically.  
  
 “Present to me.” Hermann commanded.  Newton swallowed and spread his legs apart, then he leaned back to show his body off as his cock hung limp between his legs.  Hermann made a noise of appraisal, a finger reaching out to trail across the Kaiju tattoos that spread from one collarbone to the next.  When he drew back he held his hands out, and Newton obediently set his wrists on Hermann's fingers.  After a short examination, Hermann let him go.  
  
 “You need to trim your nails, make sure to remind me later or you'll never get it done,” he said, then crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Newton, “now onto why you're really here, mutt.  Tell me what you did wrong.” Newton nodded and looked down at the carpet as Hermann scolded him.  
  
 “I raised my voice at you.” He muttered, trying hard not to sink his teeth into his bottom lip.  
  
 “Louder.  I want to hear you admit to me what you did wrong.” Hermann demanded.  
  
 “I raised my voice at you, Sir, I shouldn't have but I lost my temper in a situation where you could have easily talked me down.” Newton glanced up and swallowed, his posture stuff.  Hermann's strict glare eased and he leaned back, two fingers tapping the metal of his belt.  
  
 “What is your punishment when you raise your voice at me, mutt?” Hermann asked even as Newton eyed the belt and lifted his hands.  Newton watched them shake, trying to force the nervous tremor out of his system as he pushed the prong off the buckle and began pulling the leather back.  The way his palms sweat against the leather made him want to groan, he could smell the way it mixed in a harsh tang.  
  
 “I get a spanking, Sir.” Newton said in a near whisper as his hands fumbled.  Hermann steadied him and lifted his face with a raised eyebrow.  
  
 “Puppy, is this too much?” Hermann asked, voice much kinder than earlier.  It was like a warm blanket engulfing Newton, and it was just what he'd needed.  With ease he pulled the rest of the belt through and set it across Hermann's thigh.  
  
 “I'm alright, Sir.  I know I broke a rule and that I need to be punished.  I'm just nervous.” Newton admitted as he resisted the urge to rub his cheek against Hermann's palm.  
  
 “Do you want to forgo the punishment and talk, you seem more shaken than normal tonight.” Hermann studied him with a scrutinizing eye as he picked up the belt.  Newton watched him hold it and tap the width against his palm, testing.  
  
 “May we talk _after_ , Sir?” he asked, eyes never leaving the belt.  Hermann used the end of the buckle to lift Newton's face so he was forced to look at him.  
  
 “If you've started enjoying your punishment, mutt, you'd best tell me.  If you're lying about this and doing it for the enjoyment, you _will_ regret it.” Hermann scolded, voice a cold metal against Newton's skin.  
  
 He shook his head no quickly, whimpering at the thought of ever enjoying the feel of the belt against his skin.  True there was an enjoyment, but it was more a release of stress than a pleasure.  He waited for a breath, then watched as Hermann patted his left thigh.  Newton swallowed his pride and lifted himself up to his knees, shuffling over to the side of the ottoman until he was bent over Hermann's thighs.  He shifted so his cock wouldn't rub against the material of Hermann's pants.  He felt like a child again and he wanted to cover his face as Hermann's thighs pressed against his chest and stomach.  
  
 He felt muscles in his body spasm, his fingers twitching and his leg jerk once with nerves.  A hand settled between his shoulder blades and Newton relaxed momentarily, biting his lip and wishing for more of the blissful caress of Hermann's hand before it left his back.  The tension built with every minute that Hermann made him wait, as if he was making Newton build up so he would feel each blow even more.  
  
 “You are going to count each one for me, aren't you.” Hermann said, hand finally settling back down.  He held Newton in place as the other man reached up to pull at his hair momentarily.  It was a short burst of frustrated tugging, then Newton dropped his fists to the floor and nodded.  
  
 “Yes, Sir.” The first strike came immediately, causing Newton to shout in surprise.  He hurriedly babbled out 'One,' the sting still prickling along his skin.  It hadn't been too long since his last punishment, but each time the acts were a harsh reminder of his place in life.  He felt his face flush with heat when he caught his breath, waiting for the next smack of leather against skin.  
  
 The leather cracked in the air as it hit him on the top of the thighs, the sting making him whine before he gasped out 'Two,' and then 'Three' in quick succession.  Each blow was paced between two short cracks, just enough time for Newton to feel the burn set in.  It wasn't enough for him to get comfortable though, and he thanked his luck for that.  At five his nervous trembling had stopped and been replaced by a strain to keep himself from scrambling away or making any awkward motions that would push fabric against his cock.  
  
 Hermann didn't hold back when he was punishing Newton, and six had him crying out in shock before he counted.  At eight he started to tear up, fists clenched and pressed against the rug.  By ten he had trouble getting the number out between his sob of pain and sheer humiliation, and he realized that his ass was probably as red as a warning light in the Shatterdome.  
  
 If this was a minor offense it would only go to fifteen, but if not he'd sit through twenty.  The thought made him choke on his next inhale, while the blow after that had him crying and grabbing Hermann's leg.  He was desperate and ready to beg for it to stop if he couldn't catch his breath soon.  
  
 “You're doing so well, puppy.  Just a few more, can you last that long?” Hermann asked when he heard Newton gasping, the hand on his back rubbing gently before it steadied.  Newton sniffled and bit his lip because he knew if he said the word, Hermann would stop and this would be over.  Then again, he'd disobeyed a rule and had gotten _so_ good at not doing that, at least in their apartment.  
  
 Twelve took him by surprise, much lighter than he'd been expecting.  Just a tap really. “Puppy, if this is hurting you into incoherence you need to give me some sort of sign.”  
  
 “Twelve, Sir.” Newton bit out, eyes shut tight. “All... almost done, I'll take the rest.” Newton's voice wavered and then cut out in a gasp as the leather was brought down hard against his backside.  The smell of sweat and ammonia heavy against his skin as he sucked in a deep breath through his nose the best he could.  He whimpered and snuffled, no longer able to do anything but whine and squirm as he felt trickles of perspiration roll down his skin.  Hermann didn't even demand that Newton count the rest, just cracked off the last few before dropping the belt beside them in a flick of finality.  Newton felt himself being lifted until he was on his knees beside the ottoman and let out a groan, body limp with relief.  
  
 Hermann had a handkerchief out and was wiping up Newton's tears as he hushed him and whispered soothing endearments with tender kisses to his face and shoulders. “You did so well, pet, so well, and look you're done now.  Are you alright, do you want tea?” Newton just nodded as he shivered in the sudden chill of the clammy air on his damp skin. “Let's get you a cup and then a lie down, shall we?” Newton nodded as Hermann settled him before he stood and gathered his cane.  
  
 Newton wiped his face on his arm and sniffled even as he moped up most of the snot and tears onto his tattoos.  His thighs were sore and aching as he bit his lip to keep himself from hissing in pain.  Hermann hadn't been holding back tonight and Newton was having to take deep gulping breaths to steady himself from crying like a child.  He hated doing that, not that it didn't feel amazing afterwards, but he'd cried so much tonight that he didn't think he had it in him to throw a sobbing tantrum.  He could feel the ache in his muscles, each stripe along his body throbbing.  
  
 Before he knew it, Hermann was ushering him over to the couch and settling Newton beside him.  Newton eased himself down so his head was in Hermann's lap as the other man pet his hair and handed him the cup of tea.  It was mostly sugar water the way Newton took it, but it soothed his nerves in a way that was reminiscent of Hermann's fingers through his hair.  He could feel every inch of his body relaxing as Hermann pampered him now that they were done, and it was glorious.  
  
 “I shouldn't have brought that into the lab,” Hermann muttered after a few minutes of Newton nuzzling his leg unconsciously, “I broke a rule that we _both_ set forth and that was _utterly_ untoward of me.  I should have a punishment as well, although given the circumstance I believe it will need to be put on hold until you're well enough to pick it and deliver.” Hermann's voice was soothing, fingers trailing down the back of Newton's neck to brush against each tattoo.  He put up a terrible front about how much he disliked them, but Newton knew better.  
  
 He knew that even though the subject matter of his tattoos was distasteful in Hermann's eyes, his Sir loved the way the ink and scar tissue raised the skin for him to map out with the tips of his fingers.  Hermann loved to scratch just at the edges of the tattoos to make Newton arch into the touch when they made love.  He spoiled him with tenderness on days like that, trailing kisses along ink and tongue against flesh.  
  
 “It's fine, I was out of line, Sir.” Newton tacked the Sir on out of habit and respect, mind still on discipline, punishment, and care.  Also love, but that wasn't something he was willing to divulge out loud, at least not yet.  
  
 “No, I _was_ out of line,” Hermann leaned down and kissed Newton's forehead, “could you _ever_ possibly forgive me?  You didn't deserve this punishment and yet I went through with it, it was all in bad form.” He looked away with a grimace and Newton frowned.  He leaned up and waited for Hermann to take a sip of his tea, then took the cup out of his hand.  He set both of them aside and slowly dragged himself up to his knees, biting back the sore reminder of the belt.  
  
 “Hermann,” Newton put his hands on Hermann's cheeks and forced him to make eye contact, “if I had thought you were out of line, or that I didn't deserve to be punished, you'd _know_.  Hell, the entire _Shatterdome_ would know, you'd still be _hearing_ about it.  In fact, we'd have never started and you'd have taken a walk to clear your head.” Hermann scoffed at the idea, but there was a soft smile behind it.  
  
 He reached up, one hand covering Newton's and brushing his thumb against the back of his fingers.  His smile was contagious, and soon Newton was leaning in to kiss him over and over again.  It was slow and building, one of the romantic kisses that left them feeling a spark of something hot in their guts.  Newton pulled back first, panting and gripping Hermann's shirt tight by the front before he settled back down on his thighs.  Hermann smiled and went back to petting him, occasionally taking sips from his tea and encouraging Newton to drink.  
  
 After dozing off twice, Newton finally pushed himself up resolutely and looked up at Hermann with his sweetest attempt at a smile. “Can I ask you something, Sir?” Newton muttered, easing himself to sit more on the side of his legs rather than his rear.  
  
 “I'm not sure, can you?” Hermann countered, all haughty indignation and sarcastic sneer.  Newton tried not to groan, and instead shook his head. “Punishment's done for now, pet.  You don't need my permission for things.” Hermann said before he gave him a soft kiss.  Newton sighed, then reached out for his teacup.  
  
 “Help me get a shower?” He asked before taking a sip of his tea.  Warm ginger, honey, vanilla bark?  Maybe some lavender.   He hated how well he'd gotten to know the taste of tea thanks to Hermann, it was just rude and not metal at all.  Hermann had gotten his special occasion tin out, he must feel _really_ bad for the punishment.  
  
 “Of course, pet,” Hermann gave him a fond smile as he reached for his cane, “can you stand?” He asked as he readied to push himself off the couch.  Newton bit his lip as he unfolded his legs and hissed when his backside came in contact with the upholstery.  With enough willpower and help from Hermann, he managed to push himself up and shift awkwardly from side to side.  
  
 “Are you _sure_ you're alright, pet?” Hermann asked as he eyed the way Newton was flinching with every step.  
  
 “I'm just sore, I'll be fine after I sleep it off.” Newton said as he tried to reassure Hermann.  
  
 “Right, perhaps a soak will help?  I don't mind using up a few ration cards for the extra hot water.” When Newton tried to protest, Hermann cleared his throat and shuffled them into the bathroom. “Don't argue.  Sit in the tub, I'll go get you some clean clothes that don't look too monstrous.” Newton couldn't help but smile as Hermann maneuvered him into the tub anyway.  He hummed happily when he was kissed repeatedly, then he whined when Hermann pulled back.  He tried not to grumble when Hermann plugged the tub and turned the water on.  
  
 Hermann was spoiling him, so Newton made a mental note to get him back for that.  Maybe a blowjob or something, he'd figure it out later.  Right now, the water just felt nice on his aching skin as it pooled in the bottom of the tub.  He watched Hermann disappear into the bedroom, then frowned.  
  
 “Hermann.” He sat up, breathing through his teeth as his skin rubbed against the tub.  
  
 “Yes, love?” Hermann said, sticking his head through the doorway.  It made Newton smile.  
  
 “Come bathe with me, please?” He watched as Hermann flushed and then shook his head laughing.  
  
 “I swear, I never know what to do with you.  I'll be there in a moment, pet.” Hermann disappeared through the doorway again and Newton realized he'd never felt so lucky in his entire life.  
  
 “Oh, and don't forget the nail clippers!”


End file.
